


Five Facets Of Abby Griffin

by EllanaSan



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, Canon Compliant, F/M, with a few of my own hc about their lives on the Ark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-11 19:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7904704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abby Griffin has a lot of facets. Marcus knows and loves them all. Even when she infuriates him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Five Times Abby Was Terrifying

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo this is an experiment haha. It will be a 5 chapters collection of 5 times stories, all in Marcus’ pov and retracing his history with Abby. Needless to say, this is a kabby story. I hope you like it. 
> 
> See you tomorrow for next part and thanks to Akachankami for the beta!

**1.**

Marcus hopped in Medical, pushed by the hand his superior officer had fisted around the collar of his jacket.

“I’m fine.” he grumbled for the third time. He would _never_ hear the end of this. Three weeks in guard training and he had managed to injure himself _twice_. He had been working through the pain in his ankle but his left hand… Their superior officer had seen it before he could try to hide it away.

“You’ll be seen to, cadet.” the man grumbled, nudging him none too gently toward the first bed they found.

Medical was busy like always with nurses and doctors rushing by. The guard didn’t stick around to make sure Marcus got treatment, and he almost limped out of there before he could waste anyone’s time with something that _wasn’t_ life-threatening. Resources were scarce and he didn’t want to take away something that could help someone else.

“Hello, my name is Abigail, I am training as a doctor, what seems to be the problem?” a girl droned out in a slightly bored voice, suddenly appearing in front of him, eyes glued to a data pad in her hand and otherwise not paying attention to her surroundings. How she managed to avoid getting bumped by walking nurses or hitting rolling carts full of equipment was anyone’s guess.

She was vaguely familiar but he couldn’t pinpoint where he had seen her before. Everything about her _screamed_ privileged and he never had had much contact with the kids from Alpha. Jake didn’t have his reservations though, he was always running off with Thelonious those days, so maybe that was how Marcus knew her… Maybe she was friends with Jaha and maybe they had found themselves at the same party once or twice.

She was pretty. That was the second thing that came to his mind. Glossy dark blond, almost brown, hair pulled up in a hasty ponytail, wayward strands all over the place… She made messy hairstyles look good. He detailed her features, noting the cheekbones and wondering if she had dimples when she smiled.

She _wasn’t_ smiling at the moment. She was almost scowling.

“Well?” she prompted when he didn’t answer, finally looking up from her data pad.

He blinked and shook his head. “It’s nothing really. Just… An accident in training with shock batons.”

She looked at him from the top of his slicked back dark hair to the sole of his boots. “You’re training with the guards.”

It wasn’t a question but he nodded all the same. “I’ve only been there a month or so.”

“I’ve only been here _a week_ but don’t worry I’m told I’m very good at what I do.” she winked. “Now, show me.”

He winced. “It’s really nothing.”

Her amusement died down quickly, replaced with the now more familiar scowl. She placed her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. “Listen, my shift ends in ten minutes. It’s been twenty-four hours, I’ve been puked on _three times_ , my boyfriend is about to get here any minute so… You’re going to tell me what’s wrong and we’re going to fix it _fast_ , do you understand?”

She was terrifying.

There was this class in guard training where they were supposed to learn how to recognize and assess a threat… Right now, his guts told him Abigail was a threat. A very real, very potent threat.

And he was a little put out that she already had a boyfriend. Not that he would have asked her out… She _was_ scary after all. But…

“My hand.” he said anyway, holding out his palm for her to examine. He had had the _stupid_ reflex of grabbing the baton when his training partner had tried to hit him with it. They were supposed to _avoid_ it by rolling on the side _not_ grab it with bare hands. Instinct was a hard thing to suppress though.

She studied the burned flesh attentively and then hummed. “It’s not too bad. I’ll go get a balm.”

“I don’t need…” he started, only to be cut off by a very powerful glare that made him switch tracks. “Yes, ma’am.”

A bright satisfied smile stretched her lips. “Good. Fill that while I fetch it.”

She tapped on her pad and then passed it to him while she disappeared for a little while. It was basic information, something she probably should have asked _before_ everything else – and probably _would_ have if he hadn’t distracted her. He typed all the required entries.

She checked the pad first thing when she came back with the balm, apparently satisfied with what he had entered.

“Marcus.” she read, her tone teasing. “You could have introduced yourself before.”

“You didn’t give me enough time.” he retorted.

She lifted an eyebrow at him, her lips twitching with open amusement. “Do you always need so much time to do _anything_?”

“Never had any complaint before.” he smirked.

He was rewarded with a laugh and a shake of her head. She wasn’t _so_ scary when she was laughing, he decided, but it was _there_ nonetheless. She had a charisma, an _aura_ about her… She was younger than he was but she was commanding. He knew a leader when he saw one.

“Any allergies, Marcus?” she asked.

He shook his head no, wondering how she could make his name sound so appealing, wondering also how serious it was with her boyfriend and if he could run interferences.

She was interesting.

And he was interested.

“Here you are.” a familiar voice sighed, barely preceding the arrival of one Jake Griffin. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Marcus frowned, about to ask _how_ Jake had learned he was in Medical and to point out the injury wasn’t life threatening and didn’t warrant a visit – best friends notwithstanding – when he realized Jake wasn’t talking to _him_. He didn’t even _see_ him. All his focus was on the girl whose face lit up like Unity Day had come early when she spotted him.

_Oh._

Well, that was that then. The interest he felt was crushed in the bud and carefully swept aside before it could develop into anything problematic.

Jake kissed her like he hadn’t seen her in days and Marcus found himself rolling his eyes at his best friend’s antics. He cleared his throat, pointedly lifting his eyebrows at Abigail when she blushed, waving his hand a little.

“Who’s wasting time now?” he joked.

That was when Jake finally spotted him and immediately frowned in concern. “What happened to you?”

“You two know each other?” Abigail asked.

They all agreed it was a funny coincidence that he would end up being treated by Abigail. _Very_ funny.

Later, once they were out of earshot, Marcus told Jake his girlfriend was terrifying.

Jake checked over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t about to pop out of thin air and fondly agreed.

* * *

 

**2.**

“How could you do to that?” Abby hissed, eyes full of angry tears. “How _could you?”_

Marcus forced himself to meet her gaze and to not flinch. He owed it to her, to _Jake_.

The council room was large enough but, right then, with only the two of them sitting on opposite side of the table, it felt impossibly tiny. He should have left with the rest of them when Jaha had called an end to the session. Their Chancellor hadn’t made the mistake of lingering behind but, then again, Marcus was sure he would be next on her list of people to tear down to shreds. Maybe that was why _he_ hadn’t left in the first place, to get this over with quicker.

“It had to be done.” he answered simply, calmly. “You know that, Abby.”

She sneered, her hands balling into fists on the table. “By you? _You_ had to propose _your best friend_ being floated? Was it even your idea or did you just repeat what was fed to you like a good dog?”

He bristled at the accusation, not as blinded by Jaha’s manipulations as she wanted to believe. Thelonious was his friend and he respected him but the little game he had been playing for the last few years with him and Abby hadn’t escaped Marcus. He had been playing mentor to both of them, subtly edging them against each other while always rising above. It was all political, of course, a way to assure himself he would always have the upper hand. No, Marcus wasn’t blind to that.

Both of them being on the Council had sometimes damaged their friendship but they had always made an effort to keep the professional out of their private life, for Jake if anything else. But now…

“I didn’t hear you making a convincing defense.” he retorted. He had been counting on that, counting on her making one of those speeches that always turned the Council around her way. He wasn’t as good with words as she was and he often _lost_ to her because of that. So, yes, he had been expecting a speech, a plea, some bargaining… But she had tossed everything on Clarke’s case. Perhaps she thought she couldn’t save them both. Perhaps she had made her choice. Still…

“I didn’t vote for!” she snapped, pushing herself up. The chair clattered on the floor behind her.

He stood up too, no less brutally. “You didn’t vote against either!” 

She had _abstained_. _Abstained_. It was as good as admitting they were right to float him. It was as good as _consenting_ to it.

“But I didn’t vote for!” she shouted and her voice broke a little in the middle.

“Does it matter?” he snorted. “You would have if you had been forced to choose. Just like _I_ had to. Because you can say whatever you want but our people come first for you. _Always_.”

She briefly pressed her hands against her face as if she didn’t know herself what she had just done, what had just been decided. It would go fast once she stepped out of the Council room. Jaha had gone ahead to warn Jake and _he_ would be requested to be around when it happened because that was _his job_ but nothing would start until _they_ stepped out of the Council room and maybe that was why they were lingering in each other’s presence when all they obviously wanted was to never see the other again.

He had betrayed Jake, yes.

But she had too.

“And Clarke?” she asked, her voice rising stronger in fury. “Why did you have to include Clarke in the accusations?”

He clenched his jaw, refusing to meet her eyes this time, because if sentencing Jake to death gave him no pleasure and caused him pain, knowing he would be the cause of his and Abby’s daughter’s eventual death was maybe even worse. There was nothing Jake wouldn’t do for Clarke. He loved that kid more than…

He forced the thoughts away. Clarke was a kid just like any other. She wasn’t the first one he arrested and she wouldn’t be the last. Clarke was a threat to the Ark. And threats had to be dealt with accordingly, regardless of personal feelings.

“It’s the same thing.” he said coldly.

“It’s _fucking_ not the same thing!” She was shouting again, sneer on her lips, eyes wide. She grabbed the closest chair and, for a second, he could see the murdering urge on her face. He almost lifted his arm preemptively, certain she would toss the chair at him or try to smash his head with it.

“Abby.” he warned. “Don’t make me arrest you.”

He wouldn’t. Not for this. Not even if she attacked him. There were no witnesses. He could afford the sentimentality once after what had just been decided. She was angry and he understood deep down. He was angry too. At Jake mostly for putting them in this position, at her for going to _Jaha_ instead of coming to _him_ with her suspicions and at _Clarke_ for getting involved. He was angry at Thelonious for making so much sense when he claimed personal feelings shouldn’t count, he was angry at Callie because he _knew_ she would walk away from him as soon as she would learn, support Abby because Abby was her best friend and he was only the guy she was casually dating when he wasn’t annoying her to death with his stuck-up attitude, angry at _himself_.

“Why not?” she chuckled bitterly. “Wouldn’t that make your day…”

She looked crazy and he was a bit scared she _would_ try to murder him.

“I’m not enjoying this.” he denied, gritting his teeth. “He’s my friend…”

“Don’t.” she hissed, letting go of the chair but advancing on him with her finger pointed straight at his chest. It didn’t quite hurt when she poked his torso but she was clearly aiming at that. “Don’t you _ever_ call yourself his friend again. Don’t you _ever_ …”

“It’s a bit easy piling everything _on me_ , Abby.” he interrupted, batting her finger away. “You…”

“You went after my daughter.” she growled and, in that moment, he knew that, doctor or not, there was _nothing_ she wouldn’t do to protect Clarke, including _murder_. “And you will regret it.”

She stormed out and he stared after her, feeling chilled to the bones.

She wasn’t an enemy he wanted to have.

* * *

 

**3.**

Marcus was leaning against the table in the war room, arm crossed over his chest, happy not to be on the bad side of Abby that day because she looked absolutely thunderous.

He watched as she paced in front of the little band of misfits he had aligned before of her, half of them already reduced to tears by the simple act of being dragged to the Chancellor’s office. Abby’s lips had twitched when he had exposed their crimes but her face had soon been schooled into a very scary expression he had seen her use on Clarke once or twice once upon a time on the Ark.

“I am very disappointed in you.” she declared, letting some actual disappointment mix with her anger. “ _Very_.”

The youngest sniffled and then started bawling in earnest, despite the elbow his sister nudged him with. Abby softened a little but not much.

“Do you think the Commander of the Guards and the Chancellor have nothing better to do with their day than trying to catch thieves?” she insisted. “How many did they steal, Councilor Kane?”

“Two each.” Marcus supplied. “So ten in all, Chancellor Griffin.”

“Ten.” she repeated, shaking her head at the children. “On the Ark, you would have been put in detention for this.”

Two more started crying while the girl who had been nudging her brother stepped forward, her lips wobbling but her chin high. “It was my idea, Doctor Griffin, please don’t lock them away!”

She gave the girl a long thoughtful stare and then turned to him. “Councilman Kane, what do you think?”

He made a show of rubbing the back of his neck and looking embarrassed. “I’m afraid there’s still a leak in the cells, Chancellor Griffin. It’s very cold and humid. And _dark_.”

Frightened gasps from the little gang of misfits. Ranging from six to eight, there wasn’t much those particular kids feared aside from the dark. It wasn’t the first time he or Bellamy had to step in, hence why he had brought the small urchins to the Chancellor for a good lecture.

Abby’s eyes were twinkling with amusement and her mouth was twitching so badly, he thought she would give the whole game away.

“Didn’t I tell you to fix that?” she asked, lifting her eyebrows with mocked severity.

“You did.” he frowned. “And I passed the order along.”

“But it didn’t get done.” she pointed out.

Given that the cells they were talking about were more or less fictive, he didn’t quite know what she was aiming at. “Well, no.”

“Maybe I should have _you_ locked up then.” she snorted, folding her arms over her chest, prompting hesitant giggles from the six years old who had been crying his heart out until then. When Abby didn’t immediately chide him, a few others joined in.

Suddenly the joke was on him.

“And who will keep you safe, Chancellor?” he retorted, sounding a little put out to his own ears.

“Me! Me!” One of the boys lifted his hand high in the air with enthusiasm.

This time, Abby didn’t even try to fight the smile. “I think you don’t need to worry about retirement, Marcus. I will be in good hands.”

“I wasn’t aware I had to.” he smirked, lifting his eyebrows in mocked concern. “So. What should we do with them, Chancellor? Do I toss them in the _very dark_ cells?”

The kids weren’t crying anymore though. They all seemed very confident Abby would protect them against his ire.

“I think we should keep the cells for more serious offenses.” she declared after a staged pause for deep thinking. “Go to  the mess all and help Gina with anything she asks all afternoon. But if I _ever_ catch you doing something _illegal_ again…”

The kids scampered away in a chorus of spooked “Yes, Chancellor Griffin”. She waited until they were gone to burst out laughing. Marcus chuckled too, mostly because her hilarity was good to see after Mount Weather and everything that had happened.

“Did I ever tell you you’re the scariest person I know?” he asked, once she had caught her breath back.

She looked at him as if he had grown a second head. “Have you forgotten all the Grounders already?”

He shook his head. “I will face a Grounder army rather than you _any day.”_

She blinked, obviously a bit confused and not sure if she should take it in a good or a bad way. “I’m not scarier than Indra. Or _Lexa_.”

He pushed himself away from the table, lifting his hands in a helpless gesture. “ _Much_ scarier. When we met… The second thing I thought about you was that you were terrifying.” She was half frowning and half pouting now and he shrugged. “It’s not a bad thing, Abby.” He hesitated a moment on his way out of the room and then threw caution to the wind. “I like it.”

“What was the first?” she called after him. “You said _second_. What was the first?”

He stopped but only for a moment. “How beautiful you are.”

He fled the war room as quickly as he could without breaking into a run.

He would face a lot of things without flinching but his complicated feelings for Abby weren’t one of them. 

* * *

 

**4.**

“You shouldn’t let him talk to you like that.”

It was a growl and it was feral. Just like the way she was pacing the room in long wide steps, up to the wall and then turning around up to the other wall. Marcus watched, sitting on the edge of the couch as she retraced the length of the office again and again, starting to feel dizzy with her antics.

Abby was furious.

It was almost rippling on her skin.

It looked like it was too much for her small body and her flesh would burst at the seams, letting out a hurricane of anger.

“You are the future Chancellor and _who_ is _he_?” she continued, her hands rising in front of her, either to illustrate her point or to mimic strangling someone – he wasn’t sure and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know either. “A _teacher_. Farm station took too much importance in camp. I should have kept that in check. I should have kept _Pike_ in check. The _nerves_ of that man...”

“I’ve not been elected yet.” he pointed out.

It was waved aside by an impatient hand.

“You will be.” she declared with enough confidence that he couldn’t help a smile. “And when you are… He doesn’t respect _me_ or _my_ authority but you… We will have to make a clear stand, Marcus.”

He caught her when she walked by, standing up and gently stopping her by grabbing both of her arms. He ran his hands from her elbows to her shoulders once and then back down, a soft amused smile on his lips.

“You can’t jump at the throat of everyone who questions me, Abby.” he reminded her.

“Like you don’t jump at the throat of everyone who questions _me_?” she huffed.

She was glowering in a way that would have made him take a wild birch once upon a time. She was always scary when she looked like that, ready to tear someone apart. Now, though, she was angry on his behalf, _protective of him_ , and that made him feel…

_Warm inside._

“Point.” he conceded.

She shot him a triumphant look, anger morphing into satisfaction for a glorious moment. His eyes darted to her lips and the confident smirk there, before moving back up to meet her gaze. He felt a strange sense of anticipation like he hadn’t in years.

“Marcus?” she whispered.

He blinked himself back to reality and smiled.

“Leave Pike to me.” he promised. “Everything will be fine, Abby.” 

* * *

 

**5.**

“Please…” he begged and he didn’t even care. He wasn’t even begging for himself or for the pain to _stop_ , he didn’t even care about what was happening to him, about where they were dragging him. It was _her_ , he was concerned about. “Please, Abby…”

He didn’t know what had driven her to take the chip. She would have never done it without a good reason, he knew that much, but deep down… Deep down he couldn’t help but wonder if she had been tempted by the promise of a world without pain, if he had _left_ her to face _too much_ of this pain _by_ _herself_.

She was terrifying. Much more terrifying than the blows raining down on him or the perspective of being nailed to a cross. It was her body, it was her face, her eyes, her mouth, her voice… It was _her_. And yet it wasn’t.

She stared at him and her gaze was empty, devoid of any feelings.

He hadn’t realized how much he had come to depend on the warmth and affection in her eyes when she stared at him, how much he looked forward to meeting her eyes and seeing the friendship – and maybe _more_ – shining in them.

“Abby, wake up.” he pleaded. “Please, Abby… Abby… Wake up… Wake up…”

She didn’t even flinch.  

Not when they forced him down on the cross, not when he begged her again to wake up, not when they hammered the nails in…

He screamed himself hoarse because it was the only thing to do.

The pain was overwhelming, the fear was gut crushing…

And there she stood, empty eyes and blank face, mindless as a robot, watching him agonizing without so much of a blink…

She was terrifying and he had never been _that_ scared his whole life.

Not of her.

But _for_ her.


	2. Five Times Abby Was Loving

**1.**

Abby had the gentleness of a mother.

That was something Marcus had accepted long ago, well before Clarke was born and even before the Griffins had started talking about putting in a request for being allowed to try to conceive. It was just something about her… The way her incredible strength always mixed with a softer more patient side.

He had never paid much attention to it. She was his best friend’s wife, it wasn’t his place to notice how sweet she could be. It was something he just knew but never gave too much thought to, which was why he was so taken aback when he found her running her hand through a sleeping Clarke’s hair on their way back from Mount Weather.

Nobody had wanted to linger in the underground bunker but it had been late when they had started the hike back to Camp Jaha – they _needed_ to find a new name, he was going to put it first on the to-do list – and night had fallen quickly. There were too many injured people to attempt to continue walking, Marcus had ordered a halt to everyone’s relief.

He had seen to a security perimeter with Bellamy’s help, not sure where they were standing with the Grounders right now, but he was exhausted, his thigh was throbbing and he was eighty percent sure he had popped off one or two stitches.

Abby had been alone near the campfire he had started for them, before leaving to check in with the guards, but Clarke was there now, using her mother’s uninjured thigh as a pillow, and Marcus hesitated. Abby was sitting with her back against the trunk of a tree, looking pale in the firelight, her gaze lost to the flames.

He was about to turn around and find somewhere else to lie down and rest when she suddenly looked up. She didn’t nod or say anything but her gaze said enough. Slowly, he limped the rest of the way and dropped down next to Clarke, close enough to the fire that it would warm his aching bones.

He had half a mind to declare they were too old for stunts like the ones they had been through in the last forty-eight hours but he thought it was a bit too cliché and so he held his tongue.

Abby didn’t stop running her fingers through her daughter’s hair, sometimes patiently untangling a knot before starting right up close to the scalp again. It was chilly and Clarke shivered in her sleep. Marcus shed his jacket and covered her with it without thinking twice about it.

Abby flashed him a small grateful smile before closing her eyes, resting her head against the trunk of the tree.

“How is she going to live with this?” she whispered, so low he doubted it carried far. Nobody was really paying attention to them anyway. There were several campfires in the clearing they had settled in and everyone was busy nursing their own injuries or seeing to their family and friends.

He glanced down at Clarke. Her features were tensed in her sleep, her fingers kept flexing where they rested on her mother’s knee.

“She saved us all.” he answered softly.

“I know.” Abby sighed and there was no doubt in her voice, no real trace of judgment, simply… worry. Clarke made a distressed noise and she gently stroke her cheek, not even seeming to be aware she was doing it. Soothing her daughter’s nightmares was second nature. “But at what cost? Three hundred people…”

“It was the only option she had.” he answered, avoiding her eyes to stare at the fire. “It’s not like…”

His voice trailed off.

“Oh, Marcus…” she breathed out, the pain in her voice almost too much to bear.

_We have to answer for our sins_ , he had told her and he _did_ believe it. He wasn’t exactly sure how that worked though, when – if ever – redemption would come. She let out a small grunt of pain and by the time he turned his head, alarmed, she had already moved enough that Clarke’s head was still cushioned on her leg but that she had enough room to lean over and grab his hand.

Her thumb ran up and down the back of his hand, along his middle finger and back. It had been so long since someone had touched him so gently that, for a second, he was a bit shocked.

“The Culling isn’t your weight alone to bear, Marcus.” she declared.

“It was my idea.” he argued weakly, his eyes glued to their clasped hands.

“And I was _there_. So was Thelonious.” she shrugged. “It wasn’t your decision alone, Marcus. I was there. I was with you. You’re not alone. Don’t think you’re alone.”

He squeezed her hand and forced himself to give her a brief smile.

* * *

 

**2.**

“I think this is what they call karma.” Abby teased as he sat on a cot in Medical.

He spared a mild glare for her, unable to check the sulk off his face. He didn’t dare take the handkerchief away from his nose.

“I’m _training_ those kids. How many times did I end up in Medical when I was in training? It’s normal to…” he started. He had lost count of the number of times they had had this argument. She complained a lot of the kids ended up in her care at one point or another – and the kids just _loved_ to go to her with tales of him being a torturer training them too hard.

“Yes, yes, so you say.” she cut him off, rolling her eyes. “I just think it’s funny.”

“It’s _not_.” he grumbled.

And yet she was smiling at him like it _truly_ was and he couldn’t help but feel his irritation melt away. She gently propped his head back and nudged the handkerchief away.

“The bleeding stopped.” she announced, framing his face with her hands and carefully probing the bridge of his nose with her thumbs. “Now… Good news and bad news. The good news is… I don’t think Lincoln broke anything.”

“What’s the bad news?” he frowned.

“I don’t think you can ever beat Lincoln in hand to hand combat.”

She delivered it quickly and without even a blink. He pretended really hard he couldn’t hear Jackson chuckling at the other end of the room, where he was busy lining equipment.

“I _can_.” he countered, stubborn.

Her lips twitched with open amusement. “I thought gauging your opponent and knowing when a fight is too big for you was part of your lesson plan?”

“Abby, I have experience.” he argued. “He’s barely older than the kids…”

“Which might actually be the problem here.” she pointed out. “I hate to break it to you, Marcus, but you’re not exactly a young man anymore.”

He started at her, trying – and failing – not to feel vexed. “You think I’m old.”

“No.” she denied with enough sincerity that he believed her. “ _I think_ Lincoln has been trained to be a warrior from infancy, like most of the Grounders, and I don’t want you to get hurt. You don’t have anything to prove to anyone.” She briefly cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone, with a small smile. “Besides, we both know you can probably beat everyone in camp. Just stay away from Grounders.”

His half-cooked project of asking Indra to train with him in addition to their lessons in Trigedasleng solidified. Not that he was going to inform his Chancellor of that brilliant plan. Somehow, he didn’t think Indra would be any less difficult to face than Lincoln.

And the way Abby was looking at him was too soft and too concerned for him to add to that.

* * *

 

**3.**

The cries of the baby echoed in the Grounder village, breaking the tense atmosphere. Suddenly, everyone was smiling at each other and nodding in relief.

A rare smile briefly graced Indra’s lips and Marcus smiled too, happy that, for once, life had prevailed. When the Grounder scout had come to their camp requesting Abby’s help, they had seen a good opportunity to strengthen the ties with Trikru. There was a woman having difficulties giving birth, the midwife was out of her depths and Nyko, the local healer, was too far away to get there in time – so was the husband from what Marcus had understood although someone had gone to the village he was treading goods in to warn him.

It was peaceful in the village and Marcus enjoyed learning more about Grounder culture. Night would fall soon and he was musing about asking them for hospitality. It was only Abby and him, it wouldn’t be much of an imposition and it would be easier than trekking back to camp in the dark.

“Osir laik bi hold kom Skaikru.” Indra declared with gravity.

Marcus’ Trigedasleng was slowly getting better thanks to her diligence and Octavia’s help in practicing it. _We are indebted to the Sky people._

“Der laik no hold op lukots.” he answered, still hesitating a little on some words. _There are no debts between friends_.

Indra looked doubly pleased. “You are making progress, Kane.”

They kept talking for a while longer until someone came to get her about settling a dispute. Marcus wandered around in search of Abby. He took direction from one of the Grounders, found the right house, and ducked under the beaded curtain that passed as a door. The house was hardly more than a big room, the space divided in two by a white sheet. The new mother and the midwife were on the other side and Abby was in the main room.

She turned around and smiled at him when she spotted him, the newborn safely cradled against her chest in a brown blanket. She was humming a familiar lullaby, gently stroking the baby’s hand, teasing the tiny fingers into closing around her forefinger.

For a moment, the picture was so appealing, so… _tempting_ , his heart clenched once before it started racing. The way she cradled the child in her arms… The way she looked at it… The tenderness on her face… 

He was shocked by how much he liked the idea of her with a child.

He had vague memories of her with Clarke when her daughter was that age but he had been so busy climbing the social ladder back then he hadn’t been paying much attention to his friends and their family life. He had shared Jake’s happiness and congratulated him but he had never desired that life for himself. And Abby… Abby had only been his best friend’s wife at that time. Someone he liked a lot but who he felt the need to be careful with. Strangely, it was only when they had both made it to the Council, when his and Jake’s friendship had already slowly been withering, that they had started truly connecting – in good and bad ways.

And now…

“It’s been a long time since we had a baby on the Ark.” she whispered, softly enough not to disturb the child. “I forgot how heavy they were for such tiny things.” He walked closer, peering at the baby in the blanket. He looked healthy, big blue eyes, stared at him. Abby looked completely enamored, her smile was bright as she retraced the child’s features with the tip of her finger. “It’s a boy.” she grinned. “A very strong beautiful baby boy.”

There a small tinge of wistfulness in her voice. He didn’t ask. He could imagine. If there hadn’t been the one child policy… He doubted Abby and Jake would have stopped at one. Abby loved children.

“Doctor Griffin?” the midwife called from the other side of the curtain.

There was no urgency in her voice but Abby immediately answered all the same. “I’m coming.” She glanced around, obviously didn’t find what she was looking for, and stepped closer to him. “Here. Can you…”

“Abby, that’s not…” he tried, his voice rising in panic. He didn’t have time to finish. In a matter of seconds, she had placed the baby in his arms. He automatically adjusted his grip, having no clue at all what he was doing.

Abby, on the other hand, looked very pleased and a bit surprised.

“You’re a natural.” she chuckled before slipping around the curtain.

The awkwardness quickly disappeared and after a few seconds, holding the child indeed felt natural enough that he started feeling a bit wistful himself. That wasn’t something he had ever desired. On the Ark, he had never found a woman he could see himself settling down forever with or have a family with – to his mother’s utter despair. After a while, he had simply accepted it wasn’t something he would ever get. He had been and still was dedicated to his people. It had to be enough.

Except now…

Well…

A man suddenly came in, looking out of breath, worry marred his features… He relaxed when he saw the baby in Marcus’ arms and his gaze immediately darted to the curtained area.

“Em ste os.” he offered, guessing the man was the father. “Emo laik os.”

_She is well. They are well_.

The man relaxed and a big smile broke on his face. “Skat o gada?”

_Boy or girl?_

“Skat.” Marcus answered, carefully handing the baby over.

The man looked overjoyed. Abby walked around the curtain at that point, followed by the midwife. They exchanged a few words in their language and Abby edged closer to him, still a bit lost when it came to Trigedasleng. She was trying but she had difficulties picking up the strange words.

“Mochof.” the man said with open gratefulness once the midwife was done explaining what had happened. “Mochof.”

_Thank you_.

“Pro.” Abby answered with hesitation, looking at him for confirmation. He nodded so she repeated more firmly. “Pro. You’re welcome.”

The villagers celebrated that night. There was a big campfire, a lot of moonshine being passed around and the proud father being congratulated by the entire village. At some point, someone took out some weird looking music instruments and a few people started to dance. There was a lot of laughter, a lot of happiness. It was good to see. 

Marcus and Abby watched the party unfolding, sitting with their back against a big rock near the huge campfire, sipping from the mead that Grounders kept passing them. After two tankards, Abby started giggling for no real good reason, her eyes far too bright, her cheeks flushed despite the cold air. Marcus paced himself but the alcohol was getting to him too.

“You’re brooding.” Abby remarked, almost scolding him.

“I’m thinking.” he countered with an amused smile at her attempt at being serious when she was so obviously intoxicated.

“About what?” she frowned.

“Missed opportunities.” he shrugged.

He didn’t expect her to follow his train of thoughts but she was his best friend and she knew him better than most so it shouldn’t have surprised him that she understood what he was talking about despite the two tankards of mead.

“You can still have it, you know.” she told him, her voice softening. “Assuming everything’s in order…”

“Everything’s in order.” he cut her off quickly.

She rolled her eyes. “Marcus, I’m your doctor. There’s no reason to be embarrassed about discussing that.”

“I’m not embarrassed.” he lied. Badly.

“You can still have it.” she insisted. “That’s the good thing with men.”

“Do you want more kids?” he asked, without really thinking it through or about how it would sound like.

She licked her lips and averted her eyes, taking a sip of the third tankard someone had placed next to her. “I’m too old.”

“You’re not old.” he scoffed.

“For childbearing, I am.” she replied. “Or almost there anyway. And honestly… Even if… It wouldn’t be the right time for…”

“True.” he nodded. “It’s not the right time.”

Not with Clarke missing. Not with a society to rebuild from scratch. Not with the Azgeda threat.

_They_ couldn’t afford distractions of that nature. And he didn’t even know why they were having that conversation anyway.

“You could…” she hesitated.

He shook his head. “No.” The mood was turning a bit awkward – with reason since it felt like they just had ‘the family’ conversation without even being involved with each other – and he nudged her shoulder with his own. “Besides, we have so many kids on our hands…”

She laughed. “How did _that_ happen?”

“I don’t have a clue.” he snorted. “Did I tell you about what Octavia did yesterday?”

He told her the story of how Octavia had tried to teach her brother how to ride a horse and how Bellamy had ended up falling over and over again under Gina’s watchful eyes, to his obvious dismay.

They talked and laughed and forgot all about the awkward conversation.

Yet when her head ended up on his shoulder after a while, he didn’t think it was accidental.

* * *

 

**4.**

Abby looked very pleased with herself, an almost maniac grin on her lips, and Marcus let her drag him all the way through the station’s wreckage to his room, amused by her antics. He was a bit surprised when she walked in without pausing to ask for authorization but, clearly, it wasn’t the first time that day she had gone in his quarters without his permission because she stopped next to a square thing wrapped in brown paper and propped against the metallic bookshelf with the few books and trinkets he owned.

“What’s that?” he frowned, curious.

She gestured at him to take it. “Open it.”

He studied her briefly, noting the small traces of nervousness that were starting to show, and grabbed the thing before sitting on the bed to carefully unwrap it. She sat right next to him, watching his every move.

It was a pastoral painting that probably came from the Mount Weather stock. Grey sky, mountains in the distance and a lot of green trees and grass in the foreground with a few people going about their own activities. The details were exquisite, it looked so real… It was peaceful. So peaceful he fell in love with it at first glance.

“It made me think of you.” she explained, in a soft voice. “It’s called _The Arcadia._ ”

_Arcadia…_

_Arkadia…_

They had been trying to rename Camp Jaha for a while and he thought they might have finally found a fitting name.

“It’s beautiful.” he answered just as softly. He tore his eyes away from the painting to look at her, a smile on his lips. She was smiling too, such a gentle smile it made him want to brush his fingers on her mouth. He stopped himself at the last possible moment.

Sometimes it was like she was reading his mind. She leaned in, pressing a kiss on his cheek despite the beard he had taken to wearing, so close to his own lips he wasn’t sure what to make of it. The kiss lingered without being an open invitation to _more_ , it wasn’t quite friendly but it wasn’t _anything else_ either. It was… _caring_.

“Happy birthday.” she whispered.

His eyebrows furrowed together, quickly making calculations in his head, astonished that she would remember when _he_ had completely forgotten.

She placed her hand on his shoulder and propped herself up, letting it trail off slowly.

“I’ll see you at dinner.” she said. “And don’t tell them I gave the game away but Bellamy, Octavia, Gina and Raven may or may _not_ be planning on embarrassing you by singing the birthday song.”

He made a face. “Who told them?”

Her grin was enough of an answer but instead of annoyance, he only felt fondness. It had been a long time since anyone had cared enough to celebrate his birthday or make sure his day was in any way special.

Once she was gone, he carefully hung the picture on the wall and, already, it was becoming his most treasured possession.

It made him think of the life he dreamed of for his people.

It made him think of her.

* * *

 

**5**.

A sort of hush had fallen on the Commander’s throne room.

Wounded people were sitting all over the place, slowly being evacuated by valid Grounders and guards down ladders. Marcus was exhausted, climbing down wasn’t something he felt able to do right now, not after the _climb up_. Only thinking back to the insanely dangerous ascension was enough to make him shudder.

“Here.” Abby whispered, reappearing at his side.

He was sitting on the steps leading to Lexa’s throne, feeling dizzy. The bodies had been lined up on the other side of the room, directly in his line of sight.

He barely reacted when she sat down next to him. There wasn’t an inch of his body that wasn’t hurting, too many thoughts were swirling in his head… He was still disoriented.

On their right, Jackson was doing something to Jaha who was sitting with his back against the wall, looking as lost as Marcus felt. He didn’t feel any compassion for his old friend though. Jaha was the one who had brought the threat to their door, knowingly or not. Jaha was responsible for…

Abby took his left hand and laid it on her lap with a gentleness that caught his attention. He stopped looking at Jaha to look at her, still feeling strangely disconnected from the present moment. Her hair was wild, hiding most of her bruised face as she leaned closer to better check the wound on his wrist. She worked with the same assurance she always showed when it came down to healing but there was an extra softness to her touch. He barely felt the sting when she washed the stigma with alcohol.

It was different from the City of Light where there had been no pain at all.

Right then, there simply was _too much_ pain.

“I need to stitch it.” she told him, her voice rough. “But I don’t have any painkiller or anesthetics.”

“It’s okay.” he answered mechanically.

She brushed her hair to the side before she took out a needle and thread from the box she had found he didn’t know where. She had scrubbed her hands clean but her forearms were crusted with black, there were stains on her cheek too. She had stitched up the inside of his wrist by the time he saw the bruises around her neck.

_Hanged_. _She had hanged herself to make Clarke talk._

The knowledge was in his mind. It was just before… He had felt fear when she had left the City. He _remembered_ feeling fear. For a second, the world had righted itself and he had been free. It hadn’t lasted. The chip’s grip had been too strong.

_He could have lost her…_

The thought was even more terrifying now that it had been then.

“Are you alright?” he asked. He reached out with his free hand, brushing the tip of his fingers against the purple patch of skin.

She kept working on stitching the back of his wrist. She did it quickly – to save him from more pain, he figured. He should probably tell her he was past that point.

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” she whispered.

She was lying but he didn’t call her out on it.

He watched as she wrapped a clean bandage torn from clean linen around his forearm, wrapping it once around his hand so it would remain in place, and carefully tied it. Then she moved to his other side and repeated the process with his other wrist. Once she was done, she brought his bandaged hand to her lips and pressed a kiss against the cloth.

“I’m _so_ sorry, Marcus.” Her voice broke a little.

He had offered the same words to Bellamy a while earlier and so he repeated the words the boy had gifted him with because they were the only words worth anything at that moment. “It wasn’t you.”

Those two sentences kept echoing throughout the room like a sick chorus. _I’m sorry. It wasn’t you._  

He meant it. It wasn’t her fault. He knew it wasn’t. And he needed her too much now to hold grudges over what she had done under influence of an evil AI.

She cradled his injured hand in hers, so obviously trying not to hurt him any further that it made something uncoil in him. He let out a shuddering breath and drop his head on her shoulder, forehead against the dusty fabric of her jacket.

“I’m tired.” he confessed.

A kiss was pressed against the top of his head.

“You should sleep.” she advised.

There were too many things to do, he wanted to argue, for _both_ of them. She was needed and he was sure he was too – somewhere. And yet he didn’t resist when she gently guided him down, his head ended up on her lap, he curled up on himself, and he forgot to mind lying in a dry puddle of black blood.

Her fingers ran in his hair and he fell asleep to her soft humming.

He needed to ask her what that lullaby she was always humming was, one day.


	3. Five Times Abby Was Upset

**1.**

Marcus knocked on the doorframe once before stepping in the medical reserve. He looked left and right but he couldn’t find her. He wandered between the shelves stocked with wrapped up instruments and boxes full of meds, following the noises of adhesive ribbons being ripped off.

“Abby?” he called out when he finally spotted her, crouched between two shelves, busy filling a plastic container with medical equipment from two other different boxes. She was tossing things around without showing any of her usual care. It was obvious to him that she was angry and it made him frown, his impatience to talk to her about the detailed report they were due to present to the Council in a few days receding. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” she replied without even looking up at him. “What do you want and is it urgent?”

“Not really. Your assistant told me where you were.” His frown deepened as he struggled to remember the young man’s name. He had only started his training and he had been faithfully trailing after Abby for a month or so but they had certainly interacted often enough that he should know. “Jackson.” he added, proud to have remembered. “He didn’t say you didn’t want to be disturbed. I would have caught you later.” He hesitated a little and then cleared his throat. “What did I do this time?”

That she was angry with him was a safe bet.

He really enjoyed Abby’s company, all the more so since they had both been elected to the Council. He loved talking with her about politics or the Ark or the numerous ways they could change things. The problem was they always had different ideas about _how_ to do that and so they butted heads more often than not. He was pragmatic when she was optimistic and she was all about bending the rules when he was a great believer in sticking to the law. It all made for lively conversations and debates that ended up in arguments about once a week to their common friends’ despair – Jake and Callie usually both rolled their eyes and left them to it when they started talking politics.

However, when she looked up at him, a guilty expression on her face, he realized he had been wrong. She wasn’t angry. She was upset.

“I’m sorry.” she said. “It’s not you and I shouldn’t have…” She shook her head and picked up a few more things from the boxes. “How can I help you?”

He forgot everything about the part of the presentation that wasn’t clear enough for his taste. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” she sighed with a shrug. “Clarke is sixteen and she thinks I’m her archenemy because I won’t let her have sleepovers with Wells anymore.”

“Wells is a nice kid.” he felt obligated to say, out of loyalty for Jaha if nothing else. The boy _was_ a nice kid from what he could tell – he didn’t make it a habit to hang around with his friends’ teenage children.

“He is.” she nodded. “And he’s also a sixteen years old boy full of hormones who I don’t trust to sleep in the same room as my daughter.”

“I can see your point.” he granted, automatically grabbing the box she was trying to push back on the shelf and lifting it back in place for her.

“Funny.” she snorted. “Jake and Thelonious think I’m over-reacting, that they’re like brother and sister.” Marcus let out a dubious noise. He had seen Clarke and Wells often enough around the mess hall at meal times to know the way the boy was looking at his friends’ daughter wasn’t exactly _friendly_. As if she had read his mind, Abby wave her hand in a triumphant gesture. “ _Exactly_. Jake and I had a fight about it.” Her voice dropped a little. She hesitated as if she wasn’t sure how much she wanted to say. “We’ve been fighting more and more lately.” He didn’t really know what to answer to that so he bend down and grabbed the plastic container with the stuff she had piled in it, silently following her when she led the way out of the room.  “It will be fine.” she said confidently when they reached the corridor. “We love each other, it’s just a rough patch. Everyone has them. I’m so busy in Medical and with the Council… He’s been working a lot… And Clarke’s teenage angst hasn’t been a walk in the park.”

She waved at Jackson when they crossed the Medical bay all the way to her office, unlocked the door and stepped aside so he could come in.  

“Can I do anything?” he asked, feeling a bit awkward.

He could see she was more upset than she wanted to let on but he didn’t feel it was his place to get involved. They were friends, yes, but… This felt _private_ to him.

“It will be fine.” she insisted, faking a smile. “Marriage isn’t easy. It requires work and efforts.”

He put the container on her desk and wiped his hands on his pants. “That’s what I’m told.”

“You’ll see when you get over yourself and ask Callie.” she joked. “You should hurry though. That would make us spending time together less _suspicious_.”

There was a tinge of bitterness in her voice that betrayed, again, just how deeply she had been unsettled by the fight with her husband.

Marcus noticed that before he fully registered the rest of it. He didn’t even bother explaining that he may be involved in a sort of relationship with her best friend but that neither of them had any plan of making it permanent. He was too shocked by the last sentence.

“What do you mean _suspicious_?” he frowned. “Jake can’t think…”

He and Abby had been spending a lot of evenings together in the last couple of weeks. They were working on a proposition to reform rationing and to try to make it a slightly fairer system – a proposition Jaha wasn’t exactly happy about but when they were working together, he and Abby were almost unstoppable and they were determined to see this proposition passed into a law.

But that was all it was. _Work_.

And if Jake had a problem with that… He should have come to him. Never mind that. He couldn’t think _Jake_ would suspect _him_ of…

“No, not really.” she shrugged. “He didn’t mean it.”

It must have been a hell of an argument for his friend to go reach _that_ far.

“We used to be like brothers.” he scoffed. “I would never…”

His voice trailed off, shocked by the truth he hadn’t meant to let out. _Used to be_. He and Jake weren’t as close as they used to be when they were young. When Jake needed someone to talk to, he went to Jaha. Marcus was a leftover from his childhood and, nowadays, Marcus was closer to Abby than to her husband.

She folded her arms over her chest, briefly meeting his eyes.

It only lasted a second but it was enough to know they were thinking the same thing.

_He and Jake might have been like brothers but he and Abby really were_ not _._

He wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself. There could have been something there despite the numerous differences of opinions – or maybe _because_ of them. In another life, it could have happened. But Abby was Jake’s, and Marcus had never let it spark beyond a vague possibility of what could have been. Any interest he could have harbored for her had been safely locked away within ten minutes of their acquaintance, before it could even bloom into something more problematic.

His feelings for Abby were friendly. 

Could it have been more if the context had been different? Probably. Would he ever acknowledge that or do anything about it? Absolutely not.

“He knows, don’t worry.” she said, after clearing her throat. “I shouldn’t have told you. Sorry.”

He waved off her apology, promising himself he would have a talk with Jake as soon as possible. Maybe they needed to clear the air a little.

“I wanted to talk to you about the proposition.” he answered instead, feeling a change of topic was in order.

* * *

 

**2.**

Marcus was walking around the Ark seemingly at random, keeping an eye on things and swooping on guards who were busier joking between themselves than making their rounds as scheduled.

His steps took him toward Mecha without him giving it conscious thought. It had been a while since he had last checked on his mother. It wouldn’t be a long visit, he decided, because he didn’t quite know how to _talk_ with Vera Kane anymore but he could drop by for a few minutes.

The first room he checked was the one his mother held her reunions in. Vera, he saw at once, wasn’t there. Nygel, too, was suspiciously absent. The room wasn’t empty though. On the first row of chairs facing the table where the Eden Tree stood, sat Abby Griffin.

She was staring at the tree, leaning back on the chair, her long braid falling on her shoulder… Her jaw was clenched and there were tear tracks on her cheeks.

He hesitated.

She was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t even seem to notice when his footsteps echoed in the silent room or when he sat on the chair right next to her. He didn’t really know what to say so he didn’t say anything.

“What do you want, Kane?” she asked at last, in a cold tired voice.

_Kane_. Another reminder if he needed any that they were strangers now. She had taken to using his name as a sword and a shield all at once. He had always been _Marcus_ to her before.

“I didn’t know you were religious, _Abby_.”

He stressed her name just to prove a point. He wouldn’t fall in the same petty patterns she had. He wouldn’t pretend they didn’t know each other. She considered them enemies, he was trying to keep himself on neutral ground.

He was still angry about Jake.

Angry with her.

Angry with himself.

“I’m not.” she hissed. “I was visiting a patient.”

He waited a minute to answer. “Shouldn’t you be working on your bracelets?”

He was treated to a teary glare. The glare was meant for him, that was for sure; the tears, on the other hand, weren’t.

“Why do you care?” she snapped. “You think it’s a stupid idea.”

“I never said I thought it was a stupid idea.” he retorted, annoyance sipping in his tone. “I _said_ we should have a contingency plan because we both know the chances of Earth being livable are slim to none.”

“I _believe_ it is.” she replied.

“Belief doesn’t make wishes come true, Abby.” he snorted.

Her glaring hardened but he refused to flinch.

“Given that your contingency plan is to kill two hundred people, I think we can explore my idea first.” she accused.

“It’s not a contest.” he reminded her, harsher than he had intended.

“Isn’t it?” she scowled.

He turned his head away, looking at the tree because the tree was safe. The silence was tense and uncomfortable. He was desperate to break it. “I made sure she got some charcoal.” 

“Thank you.” The way she said those words, it sounded like they were painful to utter.

“You’re welcome.” he offered anyway and it clearly was the wrong thing to say because at the way her shoulders stiffen, he guessed she had taken offense. He was tired suddenly. Tired of this hostility. They had fought and argued before but never like _this_ , never had he felt like their friendship was broken beyond repairs. He didn’t know how to extend an olive branch. He didn’t know if she would take it. It took all his courage to _try_. “How are you doing?”

It had been a couple of months now and he had had next to no contact with her outside of Council meetings. Callie wasn’t forthcoming with information either. Not surprisingly, she had sided with Abby and put an end to their relationship.

He had been sick to realize all he had felt was _relief_.

“I don’t want to play that game, Kane.” she breathed out quietly. “Don’t pretend like you care.”

“Don’t pretend like I don’t.” he snapped. “You’re upset. Do you think I _enjoy_ seeing you upset? Do you think I enjoy any of _this_?”

She studied him, staring like she could see right down to his soul. He forced himself not to fidget under her scrutiny. He forced himself to face her.

“I miss him.” she declared eventually. “Every day I wake up and I think it’s a nightmare. I miss Clarke. I miss my family. But above all, I miss _him_. He was the love of my life and nothing will ever compare to that, no one will ever come close.”

Her words hurt but he didn’t quite know why. They were weapons though, aimed straight at him. Her intent was clear: cause _him_ pain. Hurt him just like he had hurt her.

“I know you blame me…” he started calmly.

“We’re not talking about this.” she cut him off. “We’re not talking _at all_ if it isn’t about the Ark.”

“Abby…” he winced.

“I want you to leave now.” she interrupted again. She licked her lips and tilted her head a little, her eyes on the tree, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. Her voice was softer, fragile, when she spoke again. “Please, Marcus.”

It was his first name that did the trick. He had been _Kane_ for months now and Kane could play her game, Kane could be the monster she needed to hate so she could live with herself… But _Marcus_ … Marcus could only be and would always be her friend.

“Please, take care of yourself.” he requested in a whisper, before standing up and leaving her alone with the Eden Tree. The rest went unvoiced but he knew she would understand. _I can’t lose you too._

Somehow he wasn’t surprised to find his mother on the threshold of the room. She had obviously been there for a while, simply watching, and he wondered how much she had heard and what she would make of it. _Meddle_ probably. It was her specialty as well-meant as it always was.

“Were you able to help her?” Vera asked, in a quiet voice.

He almost laughed at that.

“I’m the last person she wants help from.” he spat.

He shook his head and walked away.

* * *

 

**3.**

Marcus woke up to Abby screaming and he automatically flung his legs off the bed and bolted up before he remembered they were in Medical – and thus should be safe – and that his thigh wasn’t exactly entirely operational.

The long walk from Mount Weather hadn’t been kind on his newly repaired artery.

A bit dizzy, he looked around trying to orientate himself, finally spotting Abby a few cots over, red in the face and struggling with the people who were trying to hold her down. Too many people. He wasn’t completely awake yet but the threat was too important for his taste. He immediately crossed the distance – trying to downplay his limp – a frown on his face.

“What the hell is going on?” he growled.

He didn’t understand at all. Once they had reached camp, it had been a bit crazy. There had been injured people to help, security to organize… He remembered he had tried to do everything at once until his head had been spinning, people coming to him left and right with problems only the Chancellor – or him, who was the next best thing with Abby incapacitated – could fix… He also remembered putting his hand on Sinclair’s shoulder at some point, overcome by a wave of nausea due to the throbbing in his thigh…

He must have passed out.

It was no excuse however for what was going on in Medical right now.

Abby stopped struggling when she heard him, turning her face in his direction, reaching out for him at once. Bellamy tentatively let go of her shoulder, not pinning her to the bed any longer, but Octavia didn’t relinquish her grip on her good ankle and Wick didn’t took his hands off her waist until Marcus glared at him. The engineer immediately lifted them, with a wince and a shake of his head. Jackson hovered at the foot of her bed, a syringe full of something in his hand, and Raven was peering from the next cot, her neck strained to see what was going on.

“Marcus…” Abby stuttered and he was shocked to realize she was _crying_. “Marcus, please, help me. Help me.”

He was at her side in seconds, gripping her hand tight, and glaring at the kids until they all _backed off_. His mind wasn’t exactly clear yet, it was clouded by exhaustion and pain, and all he could think about was that it was some sort of _coup_.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked the lot of them, feeling betrayed, standing protectively next to her like he had any hope of stopping them without a weapon. “You’ll have to go through me to get her. Understood? You’ll have to go through _me_.”

Visions of the mountain men grabbing her from his side, kicking and screaming, while he could do nothing but awkwardly hop around on his good leg, swarmed in his mind – visions of her tied to a table while he screamed himself hoarse, visions of a drill and a terrible gut wrenching _terror_ of having to watch her being tortured, or even _be killed,_ right in front of him… Vision that made him see _red_ and adrenaline pump in his veins…

“Kane, you’re still drugged.” Jackson pointed out, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I gave you a high dose and…”

“Nobody is trying to hurt her.” Bellamy cut in, hands lifted high in a show of good will.

And yet when Abby tried to sit up, they all swooped down on her again.

“Abby, be reasonable!” Raven called from her own cot. She tried to stand up too, to help probably, but Wick was quicker and he nudged her back down.

“Marcus…” Abby called and it was enough for him to push the unwanted hands away from her body, wrap a protective arm around her trembling shoulders, and toss a very dangerous glare at Jackson when he took a step closer with his syringe.

“Told you we should have waited and let Kane tell her.”  Octavia sighed.

“Tell her what?” he frowned.

“Clarke’s gone.” Bellamy said bluntly.

His frown deepened. “What do you mean _she’s gone_? She’s not _gone_. She was there… She was…”

He couldn’t remember seeing her around after they had reached Camp Jaha.

“We need to go after her.” Abby said, sounding feverish. She tried to get up again, her face contorting in pain, but this time Marcus bodily prevented it by sitting down on the edge of the bed, facing her, his arm still firmly wrapped around her shoulders. She grabbed the lapels of his jackets in her hands, so tight her knuckles turned white, her eyes pleading, and he automatically drew her into a hug, cradling the back of her head in his hand, letting her bury her face in the crook of his neck. He turned his head toward Bellamy.

“She said she couldn’t be here after…” the boy explained, his voice trailing off. “I should have stopped her but…”

“Did she say how long…” he winced.

Bellamy’s eyes said it all. He didn’t think Clarke would be back any time soon.

Abby was almost _rocking_ in despair against him and Marcus didn’t think he had ever seen her lose her composure like that. Not even after Jake’s death. It was Jackson’s eyes he searched next.

“She’s still high.” the young man confirmed. “Her hip… She wouldn’t lie still, she wanted to look after everyone… I _had_ to sedate her. I used the medicine the Grounders taught us how to make. They’re more potent than I thought.”

He sounded defensive, probably because he knew Abby would have something to say about that later on.

“Marcus, go after her.” Abby begged against his neck. “I can’t lose her again. I _can’t_. Please, go after her. _Please_.”

He swallowed hard, not quite trusting himself to make decisions in the state he was in but also very sure, even drugged, that sending soldiers into the woods right now would do more harm than good, no matter how disarmed he felt faced with her despair. They didn’t know where they stood with the Grounders and if _anyone_ had to risk their lives…

Abby was openly sobbing now. He could feel her warm tears on his skin.

“Give us some privacy, please.” he requested.

They all nodded their understanding, Bellamy was the only one who didn’t leave at once.

“I can go.” the boy offered. “I can…”

Marcus shook his head no, lowering his voice as if it could prevent Abby from hearing. “I don’t want anyone out of camp until we’ve had a chance to clear things up with Trikru. If you want to help, tour the perimeter, make sure the fence is secured and replace the guards on duty who are tired. Report to me in an hour.”

“No.” Abby protested, trying to push herself away from him.

He didn’t let her. He waited until Bellamy had nodded and pulled the tattered curtain close, separating them from Raven’s and other people’s prying eyes, before he tightened his grip on her, making gentle shushing noises. “It will be alright, Abby.”

“ _No_.” she hissed between two sobs. “I want her _found_. I want her _home_. This is _an order_ , Kane. Find her. _Find her_. I can’t lose her. I can’t…”

She collapsed against him, leaning her whole weight against his chest. He pressed his lips against the top of her head, slowly running his fingers through her tangled hair.

“We’ll find her.” he promised. “ _I_ ’ll find her.” He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on her head. “But we can’t be reckless about it. We have to secure things with Trikru first. For our safety _and_ Clarke’s. Once we’re sure they won’t kill us on sight, I promise I will go look for her. I _promise_ , Abby.” She let out a smaller sob and seemed to give up, because next thing she was snuggling closer to his chest, almost climbing on his lap in the process and he had to shift so he could hold her as tight as she wanted without making both of their injuries worse. She was making an effort to control her breathing and he was sure soon she would collect herself and apologize as if they didn’t all have a nervous breakdown due in the near future.“Do you trust me?”

She sniffed a few times but he eventually felt her nod against his chest. “Completely.”

He relaxed. His whole body relaxed, a tension he hadn’t been aware of finally vanishing.

He had certainly tried to earn it but he wasn’t sure he deserved her trust back yet. He would not let her down again though. Not if he could help it.

“I’ll find her.” he whispered one more time.

Her voice was soft but she wasn’t crying anymore. “Okay.”

She made no move to break the hug so he didn’t either.

“Okay.” he echoed. 

* * *

 

**4.**

It was odd to walk in his quarters instead of the war room. The place was just as he had left it. Abby was sitting at the small table, her eyes glued to _The Arcadia_ painting hanging on the wall, lost in her thoughts. All the personal belongings that had been scattered in the Chancellor’s office over the last months were piled in front of her. Pike would find an empty room as far as decoration, mugs and supplies went. They hadn’t pushed the pettiness to the point of dragging the couch to one of their room but it had been a near thing.

Abby had been so _angry_ after the results she had looked ready to tear the walls down. Helping her empty the room had been a way to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid.

Now she simply looked…

_Upset._

“It’s done.” he told her, softly closing the door behind him.

Her eyes shifted from the painting to him, full of pain and regrets.

“My last order as Chancellor.” she joked and it fell flat.

She had given the pin to him and had asked him to go inform Pike despite everything tradition demanded. She didn’t want to see him and since Marcus didn’t trust her not to either insult him or _attack_ him, he had complied.

“Your last order as Chancellor.” he repeated with a sigh, going to sit on the bed instead of taking a seat at the table with her.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

There wasn’t much to say.

There was too much to say.

Abby had been so furious after the poll’s results that he had spent more time trying to calm her down than reflecting on how _he_ felt. It rattled him. Their people had chosen but the fact that they didn’t trust him to lead them… It _hurt_ deep down. He had done his best, would continue to do his best… And it hurt to see himself discarded so easily for a man who cried out for war when all _he_ wanted was peace.

He lifted his head when Abby stood up and slowly came to sit next to him on the bed. He didn’t protest when she grabbed his hand and held it tight between hers.

Her hands were small and delicate. Surgeon’s hands. His was big and calloused, and he liked how it looked trapped between hers.

“He will destroy everything.” she whispered at last, voicing the words they had thinking all along but hadn’t found the strength to utter yet. “Everything we worked for. Everything we _bled_ for…”

“We won’t let him.” he countered, but already his shoulders were slouching faced with the magnitude of the task.

“How?” she scoffed. “We won’t be part of the Council anymore. He made it clear he doesn’t have a lot of respect for _my_ policies. How long until _you_ are fired from the guards, Marcus? He will cut us off.”

She was getting worked up again so he squeezed her fingers. “One day at a time, Abby. We can’t be the only ones who think that way. We still have some weight.”

“I know…” she sighed. “It’s just so _unfair_. It was supposed to be _you_. I _wanted_ it to be _you_. And now… Now it will be a disaster. And _Clarke_ … I…”

He let go of her hands and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her against his side.

“We’ll get through this.” he promised. “Together.”

She closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath, tentatively resting her forehead against the side of his neck.

“Together.” she echoed.

* * *

 

**5.**

The gasp woke him up.

His eyelids fluttered open and closed as his mind hovered in the place between consciousness and sleep. It was the mattress dipping and the sudden cold against his side that dragged him over the edge though.

“Abby?” he mumbled, his hand blindly searching for her in the dark.

“I’m fine.” she claimed in a shaky voice. “Go back to sleep.”

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, bent in two as if to prevent a bout of nausea. His eyes caressed the bumps of her spine in the dark and he soon replaced them with the tips of his fingers. He felt the familiar rough patches of the shock lashing scars but it was too dark for him to see them clearly.

“Nightmare?” he asked, sitting up too and molding his chest to her back, kissing her neck and her shoulder and every patch of skin he could find.

“I’m fine.” she repeated.

He wasn’t sure who she was trying to fool. Nightmares were a common thing since they had woken up from the COL. Hers… His… Everyone’s… Strangled shouts echoed in the Ark’s wreckage at night.

She was trembling so he wrapped the sheets and blankets around them, not sure exposing their naked bodies to the chilly air was the best idea. Arkadia couldn’t afford for their Chancellor and their Head of Medical to get sick at the same time. She leaned her whole weight against his chest, burrowing in the nest of blankets he was creating for them.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

He thought she would shook her head no. She usually preferred to ignore the nightmares.

“I hurt Clarke.” she whispered. “And I didn’t stop. And then you came and…”

She stopped and sucked in a shuddering breath.

“Clarke is fine.” he told her, pressing a kiss against her shoulder. Clarke was probably asleep in Abby’s quarters if she wasn’t buried in Engineering with Raven and Monty trying to find a solution to the radiation problem. “I’m fine.”

Abby took a few more breaths and then shifted, nudging him down so she could snuggle against his side.

“It was just a nightmare.” she whispered. “We woke up.”

“Yes.” he confirmed, trying not to think about his own experience in the City of Light. “We did.”

He almost added _We’re safe_ but he didn’t want to lie. They weren’t safe, not really.

He was starting to think they would never be.

And he knew she felt the same way.


	4. Five Times Abby Was Scared

**1.**

The fall lasted forever, marked by the soundtrack of screams and the whining of quickly burning metal.

Marcus lost count of the number of times his head hit the wall at his back. Nausea was hard to suppress as they were shaken in every direction, everything was trembling. A few people passed out – the lucky ones in his opinion.

Abby was hurting him.

She had reached for his knee when the station had started shaking, her fingers were digging hard in his flesh. He covered her hand with his and she looked up, it was hard to hold her gaze because nothing was stable and they kept being hurled one way and the other but he saw enough to read the same fears he felt deep down. She turned her palm around, letting go of his knee and he automatically entwined their fingers.

Hands clasped together, they held to each other as the station plummeted to Earth.

 _Please don’t let us be blown up apart_ , he kept repeating in his head like a mantra, _Please don’t let us be blown up apart…_

Suddenly the shaking grew worse and Abby let out a small yelp as she was flung against his side. The seatbelts weren’t making a good job at keeping them steady. Her free arm wrapped around his as if he had any chance of grounding her better.

“We’ll be fine.” he told her, forced to shout to cover the roaring.

He wasn’t sure she heard him.

She curled up against his side and he automatically shielded her with his body as much as he could. It wouldn’t do a lot of good if they exploded or crashed but…

If he could protect her, he _would_.

* * *

 

**2.**

The night shone with the lights of hundreds of torches and campfires.

The Grounders’ presence was impossible to miss or ignore and Marcus feared it would be a long night. Camp Jaha was buzzing with activity despite the late hour, no one being able to settle in the wake of Finn’s death.

He had lost sight of Raven but he knew Bellamy would keep an eye on her and, hopefully, prevent her from jeopardizing the fragile truce the boy’s sacrifice had managed to settle.

Finding Abby wasn’t as difficult as he had feared.

She was in the back of the Medical tent, shifting supplies around like she tended to do when she was upset – reorganizing the reserve was a way of calming her mind, of putting some order back in chaos.

“How’s Clarke?” he asked, keeping his voice low not to disturb the few people lying on cots in the main space of the tent.

She startled, turning to him with her left hand on her chest, the right one clutching a still wrapped scalpel. He lifted his eyebrows, his lips twitching in amusement. It was short lived though. The night had been too emotionally charged for amusement to last long.

And he couldn’t fault her for being jumpy and ready to strike at enemies.

She was the Chancellor and she shouldn’t have been left to her own devices given that they were surrounded by enemy troops. He had left her with Clarke earlier to give them some needed privacy but he blamed himself for not thinking of sending a guard to protect her. _He_ should have been there to protect her.

If anything happened to her… 

He didn’t think that was something he was ready to face.

“She kicked me out of my own room.” Abby answered in the same tone. She lowered her eyes, her jaw clenched. “She was…”

Her voice trailed off and he gently took the wrapped scalpel from her hand, afraid she would accidentally hurt herself the way she was clutching it.

“Upset?” he suggested.

“Yes.” she breathed out. “Upset… She didn’t want to talk to me.”

“That’s understandable.” he offered. “You…”

“Yes.” she snapped. “Yes, I’m _well_ placed to understand what she’s going through. Thank you.”

She turned her back to him again, moving things around on the metallic shelf with shaky hands.

He winced. “It’s not the same thing, Abby.”

“Why?” she chuckled bitterly. “Because _someone else_ pushed the button instead of me? Or because she actually did it to _spare_ him pain when all I did was…” He placed his hands on her shoulders and she stopped talking for a moment. Her own hands froze on the supplies and he regretted his hasty move. He wasn’t sure where they were standing. He wasn’t sure if they were still enemies or if they were friends again. He wasn’t sure he was allowed the familiarity of touching her in comfort without asking first. Before he could step back, an apology already on his lips, she covered one of his hands with hers. Her voice was frail and devoid of the confidence she usually had in spare. Her whispers were urgent and panicked. “What if she can’t make it through this? What if it changes her? What if…”

“Abby.” he cut her off as gently as he could. “Just give her time.”

She turned around and his hands naturally fell down her arms before he let go. He was a bit surprised to see the fear shining in her eyes because he tended to consider her fearless. It took a lot to scare Abigail Griffin.

“I don’t want this to haunt her forever.” she confessed. Her face contorted with the obvious effort it took her to keep herself collected. “I want her _happy_ and _safe_. It’s my job as a mother to… What if I can’t give her that, Marcus? What if I _fail_?”

He wasn’t the best person to give parental advices. He had no children and his only practical experience with teenagers had so far revolved around arresting them.

So, instead, he offered an advice he had tried to apply since hitting the Ground.

“You can only do your best.” he told her. “And hope it’s enough.”

“Hope.” she repeated slowly, as if testing the word out.

He knew what she was thinking: he had never really been an advocate of wishful hoping before.

However things were different now.

And he was trying to adapt.

* * *

 

**3.**

They had been scared _winter_ would fall on them after Mount Weather, they had no reason to fear. It was summer they should have looked out for. Nothing they planted seemed to grow despite the Grounders’ techniques Lincoln  showed them – the few surviving kids from Farm Station like Monty Green didn’t know how to help, no one in Arkadia had practical knowledge about farming. Worse was the sun cruelly beating down on them for most of the day, slowly turning the Ark’s wreckage into something unbearably hot by warming the metal to the point it seemed to ripple – a trick of the light, Sinclair had promised him but Marcus wasn’t entirely convinced.

There was no relief to be found outside either. The air was stiff, the earth was scorched, the guards were suffocating in their black uniforms… Abby was complaining about Medical being full of people with heat strokes while she, herself, ignored her own advices about regularly drinking water and taking breaks now and then.

Marcus wasn’t sure how the fire started.

Someone screamed the alert but it was already too late. One of the tents was licked by flames and the fire was quickly spreading. The Camp was wild with panic, people ran everywhere, shouting out to get water or trying to leave the dangerous area…

Someone cried out that a woman was trapped in her tent.

“Marcus!” Abby called, running in his direction from Medical.

There was no time to stop though.

“Organize a chain!” he shouted back. “Get water over here!”

Someone tried to grab him as he jumped in the blaze – he thought it was Bellamy – but they failed. It was an inferno and, for a second, he harshly regretted his own decision – up until he managed to find the woman and get her out of there. Lincoln and Bellamy met them at the edge of the fire where he crashed, taking the woman with him. The boys dragged her away and straight to Jackson who was waiting a bit further apart from the agitation. 

Hands gripped the collar of his jacket and dragged him on a good five feet without giving him an opportunity to stand up. He was still coughing when his would-be savior deemed the distance from the fire safe enough. He looked up, expecting Octavia, but found himself faced with Abby’s terrified eyes instead.

She crouched in front of him, her hands shaking when they reached for his face. “Are you hurt?”

Some of his hair was a little singed and he held out his hands without a second thought. His palms were burned but after a quick examination she must have concluded it wasn’t life threatening because she punched his shoulder. _Hard_.

“Don’t you dare do something like that again!” she growled, her fear quickly morphing into anger. “Why do you _always_ have to be the self-sacrificing _idiot_ , Marcus?”

 _Because someone_ had _to be_ , was the true answer.

He blamed the smoke he had inhaled for what came out of his mouth instead.

“Because then you have to patch me up.” he blurted out as if it was a perfectly valid explanation.

Her eyes widened a little and then narrowed in annoyance.

“If you like my hands on you so much, Councilman…” she retorted. “I would advise _staying_ _alive_ to feel them.”

He chuckled. “Duly noted, Chancellor.”

The panic around them was receding. The fire was now under control and Abby sighed as she grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. He was forced to keep his hands in the air as she escorted him to Medical and to a cot. She left only long enough to check in with Jackson and then came back with creams and bandages.

He let her work in silence on the first hand and then cocked his head a little to the side, watching her with rapt attention as she started smearing cream on his left one.

“You were scared.” he observed.

She glanced up at him with irritation. “There was a fire and you jumped right into it. _Of course_ , I was scared, Marcus.”

She hadn’t _just_ been scared though.

She had been scared _for him_.

It made a nice warm feeling appear in his chest.

* * *

 

**3.**

“We act tomorrow.”

Three words that were so heavy Marcus almost wanted to take them back.

Her hand clenched on the metallic cup full of lukewarm tea he was sure she wouldn’t drink anymore. She leaned more heavily against the outer wall of the station, never taking her eyes away from his. Around them the night was alive with the usual noises of Arkadia’s life: people calling each other, the various campfires popping, the occasional round of laughter…

It had all become so familiar…

Any other night, he might have been on his way to the war room with their mugs of tea and a pile of reports for the two of them to review. Or they might have sat around one of the fires and shared some moonshine and friendly conversations.

 _Before_.

Before Pike had been elected Chancellor and he had committed mass murder.

Before he had been forced to lead a rebellion in an almost ironically comical role reversal.

Now… Now they were standing in the shadows of the Ark’s wreckage, far enough from the groups of people that their discussion wouldn’t be overheard but close enough that it wouldn’t seem too suspicious. He could feel eyes on him, on _them_.

“You still won’t tell me what you’re planning.”

It wasn’t a question. She had been asking for days for him to involve her and he had kept delaying, pretending he was considering it when the decision had been taken within seconds of her requesting it.

He averted his eyes, watching the bottom of his own empty cup rather than braving her gaze. “It’s better this way, safer for you.”

It made sense, he told himself. Someone needed to be there to take up the fight if he didn’t make it. And that someone would have to be Abby.

“You mean if you get caught.” she accused.

“Yes.” he answered after a moment, still not meeting her eyes.

She took a deep breath. “Marcus…”

“Abby.” he said before she could add anything else.

He knew what she wanted to say. It was dangerous, _yes_. He didn’t know how far Pike would go if they got caught. Banishment, maybe, which, with the barricade in place, would be a possible death sentence. Still, he would take his chances out there if it came down to that. Reunite with Octavia and Clarke, organize a more elaborate coup…

The aim, here, was to avoid a civil war. Some people would follow him, others would rally behind Pike. He didn’t particularly care to test whose followers would win against the others.

It _was_ dangerous and they were playing with fire.

But they had no choice and Abby _knew_ that.

His mind couldn’t help but draw a parallel to another time and another place. It felt like their life on the Ark had happened forever ago and yet… It hadn’t been so long since she had turned Jake to Jaha, because she had felt it was the right thing to do. For their people. He had agreed with her then, regardless of personal feelings. And she agreed with him now.

Their people first.

Personal feelings later.

She was scared. He knew that. She was scared for him, she was scared for the others involved, she was scared for Lincoln, she was scared for Clarke… She was scared for their alliance with the Grounders… She was scared everything they had fought so hard to build could crumble down…

But she couldn’t let that fear dominate her because she was a leader.

That was what was needed of her, what _he_ needed of her. For the good of their people.

Her free hand reached out and grabbed the open lapel of his jacket. It didn’t feel right, this jacket. He had been wearing the guards’ one for so long it had become like a second skin. This one… The weight wasn’t right, the warmth wasn’t enough… It didn’t feel familiar.

She must have thought the same because she let go.

“Please, don’t get yourself killed.” she whispered.

He faked a reassuring smile and reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear, briefly wondering what the eyes spying on him would make of that. His hand lingered and he cupped her cheek, letting his thumb retrace the shape of a cheekbone once.

The way she was looking at him…

His eyes darted to her lips and it was tempting, _so_ tempting to give in to this pull that had been increasingly rising in him…

He couldn’t afford it though. He needed a clear head. He needed strength. He needed to not be worried about what he would potentially be leaving behind, _who_ he would potentially be leaving behind.

“I’ll do my best, Chancellor Griffin.” he answered finally, in a single breath, his voice rougher than usual, reluctantly dropping his hand.

“I’m not a Chancellor anymore.” she reminded him. “It was supposed to be your turn.”

He shrugged, a small more genuine smile gracing his lips. “You’ll always be my Chancellor.”

Something deep and almost painful flashed in her eyes. Her voice sounded raw but strong. “And you are mine.” She reached out and squeezed his forearm once. “Together.”

“Together.” he echoed.

* * *

 

**5.**

It was odd how Marcus still expected to hear the hum of engines when he was working in his office late at night. Arkadia was so silent it wasn’t helping him concentrating. He rubbed his eyes and gave in to the temptation of lying down on the couch to read Raven’s report, thinking it would be more comfortable – probably more suitable to actually _sleeping_ too but at least he would have tried to get through that last report.

He toyed with the idea of going back to bed where he had left Abby in deep slumber but people expected their Chancellor to have answers about what was going exactly with radioactivity and, so far, Raven’s – titled _radioactivity: a guide for dummies_ because clearly none of the kids were scared of him anymore – report wasn’t completely helping clearing matters for him. It was however helping him cure the short bout of insomnia that had made him toss and turn next to a sleeping Abby for an hour. 

The sound of quick footsteps alarmed him and he pushed himself back in a sitting position right in time for Abby to burst in the war room, wearing the loose tattered navy blue pants she used as pajamas. She had zipped her jacket over the tank top she wore at night but her boots were unlaced.

“What’s wrong?” he asked at once, bolting to his feet and already crossing the room, worried by the wild spark in her eyes. She looked terrified.

She met him halfway, flinging herself in his arms with unchecked strength, making him stumble back one step.

“You weren’t there.” she said, choking a little on the words. “I had a nightmare. They executed you. And I woke up and you weren’t there and… I thought maybe… I thought…”

She had thought he was dead for real and she had dreamed everything else. It happened to him too sometimes.  Being unable to tell the nightmares apart from reality was a nasty aftereffect of leaving the City of Light. It usually only lasted a few seconds after waking up but… It was disturbing.

“I’m sorry.” he apologized, holding her tight. “I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to wake you. I thought I would get some work done… I didn’t think you’d…”

He hadn’t thought she would wake and panic because he was missing.

Her arms loosened a little but not much. He could feel her heart racing in her chest and he pressed a kiss on her head.

“Leave a note next time.” she chided him.

He was new to _this_. He had never had this sort of relationship before. He was new to _serious and steady_ but he was ready to learn, ready to embrace it. He wanted it all with Abby, as long as life would allow it and, maybe, if his mother’s religious theories were right, beyond that too.

“I’ll remember.” he promised.

“You better.” she snorted, cupping his cheek and nuzzling her nose against his until he took the hint and kissed her.

She didn’t look scared at all anymore when he pulled her with him on the couch.

She was chuckling, her eyes twinkling in mischief, and he just smiled, happy to see her happy.


	5. Five Times Abby Was Happy

**1.**

Marcus paused next to a window in a deserted corridor of Alpha station, peering down at Earth. It was his favorite view.

He loved the Ark at night when the only sound you could hear for miles in the hallways was the low white noise hum of the engines. Other guards would rather stick to their beds and their family in the evenings but he never complained about doing the night shifts – he never complained about any task, that was how he had gone up the ladder so fast – he enjoyed them.

The muffled sound of quick footsteps alerted him to an intruder and he tore himself from the window, his hand automatically falling on the handle of his shock baton. Not too many people were allowed to roam the corridors after curfew aside for the guards and finding someone out of their quarters at such a late hour usually meant trouble.

His hand dropped back to his side when Abby Griffin walked around the corner though. She looked a bit worse for the wear, like always after a long shift in Medical, her hair hastily pulled up in a ponytail that left a few strands free at her nape and around her face, her eyes a little red from exhaustion – because she never stuck to her working hours and always stayed longer than she was required, he had heard Jake playfully complain about it often enough – and yet, when she spotted him, she flashed him a bright smile that he couldn’t help but answer with one of his own.

“Long night in Medical?” he asked, leaning against the window to properly look at her.

“There’s a nasty flu bug going around in Hydra Station.” she told him. “I would avoid it if I were you.”

Hydra Station was on his rotation for the next day’s patrol and he made note to swap that route with someone else at the earliest opportunity.

“Noted.” he nodded, his smile widening a little. “Thanks.”

She refused his gratitude with an impatient wave of her hand and stepped closer to the window. She didn’t look at Earth though, her attention was all on him. “I heard congratulations were in order.”

He rolled his eyes a little. “Jake’s been talking.”

“We have no secrets.” she confirmed with an apologetic shrug, but her smile was strong. “You could have told me, you know. I am happy for you. It’s _impressive_.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, a bit ill-at-ease. “There’s nothing official yet. Jaha will only announce it in a couple of weeks. And I wasn’t sure you would be pleased…”

“Are you kidding?” she scoffed. “Chief of the Guard at thirty-two. _Of course_ , I was going to be pleased.”

He relaxed a little but shrugged anyway. “You’re not my biggest fan, Abby. The position goes with a seat on the Council.”

“Well, we will need to appoint someone there to counter you out, that’s all.” she grinned. “Like… The new Head of Medical.”

His eyes widened in surprised. “Are you…”

“Yes.” If she beamed any harder, he was afraid she would explode. She shifted her weight from the tip of her toes to her heels twice, obviously so happy he could do nothing but  smile at her. “They gave me the job this afternoon. It’s official.”

“It’s a record, isn’t it?” he frowned, trying to think back if there had already been a thirty year old Head of Medical before. “You will be the youngest in…”

“ _Probably,_ yes.” she chuckled. “Don’t tell Jake I told you first, he doesn’t know yet. He was stuck in engineering all day and he should have been the first to know but I’m just so _excited_ …”

He nodded his promise without a second thought, happy to see her so happy.

“Do you think the Council knows what they’re in for with the both of us on it?” he teased. “Jaha will regret this within a month.”

Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “We _can_ agree on some things.”

“Sometimes.” he smirked. “When you’re not being stubborn.”

“ _I_ ’m stubborn?” she scowled. “Marcus, you’re the most pig-headed…”

“You should save that for the first Council meeting.” he chuckled, unable to help himself.

She stopped, fighting off a smile. “Let’s agree the Council is one thing but we are another. We can disagree and still be friends.”

“Of course.” he accepted immediately and then he couldn’t stop himself from teasing her some more. “Isn’t that what we’ve been doing all those years?”

She rolled her eyes, not even bothering to fight her smile anymore, and squeezed his arm on her way past.

“Compromises, Marcus.” she laughed, turning around and walking backward for a couple of feet. “That’s the key.”

“I don’t compromise, Abby.” he called after her.

“You will learn to!” she promised, and disappeared around the corner of the next corridor.

He checked his watch, not surprised to find he was now officially off-schedule.

She had a gift for disturbing his routine.

* * *

 

**2.**

The sun was beating down on them and the heat was almost unbearable. They had been expecting _winter_ that was the worst, but the weather had changed from one day to the next. Their scientists said that it was no use expecting something regular after the nuclear war. As far as they knew, summer could turn into full winter in a couple of weeks and it could go on back and forth without any means to plan for it.

It didn’t make training any easier on the kids.

Marcus stood at the edge of the shooting range, watching Bellamy conduct the training. There were promising cadets in there and the fact that most of the kids had seen battles – as upsetting as it always was to him to think people so young had been forced to face war – helped a lot. Miller’s son, Harper, Monroe… He was planning on giving the lot of them a jacket soon. The rest of the kids could still use some seasoning but those three were ready.

He was still regretting the fact Octavia wouldn’t join the guards because she would have been a great addition and the crux of the matter was, they needed people.

He had just stepped in to help Bellamy correct one of the boys’s grip on the gun when he caught Abby slipping out from the narrow passage between two of the new buildings and making her way toward them, a bright smile on her face.

The only thing he could think of that would make her so happy was Clarke’s return and if Clarke had returned he would more than likely have been notified immediately since David Miller was in charge of the camp’s doors.

“Marcus!” she beamed when she reached him. “It’s such a beautiful day!”

“It is.” he agreed with a small frown because she was still smiling like a madwoman. “Are you alright?”

She laughed. “I’m more than alright! It’s so beautiful… The trees and the sky…” She let her head fall back, her eyes closed, her arms slightly outstretched like she was feeling the sun on her skin for the first time. Then, suddenly, she looked back at him, wrapping both of her arms around his in a death grip. Her voice was a purr, her eyes an open invitation. “Come on a walk with me, Marcus… Let’s get out of here… I want to enjoy the trees and the sky with you.”

He opened and closed his mouth, not sure _where_ to look because the kids were whispering, chuckling, and whistling behind him and the ways she had said that… He couldn’t believe she would say something like _that_ in front of _everyone_ … He couldn’t believe she would say something like _that_ full point…

“Are you sick?” he asked, at a loss for how else to explain her behavior. He placed his free hand on her forehead, trying to feel for a fever or… “Heat stroke.” he decided. “I told you not to stay locked up in Medical.”

“Come on, Kane…” Bellamy mocked with a snort. “The Chancellor’s not sick, she’s _baked_.”

“It means high.” Harper helpfully translated.

“Those kind of allegations against the Chancellor will get you in trouble.” he snapped. “Chancellor Griffin does not…”

“This is boring.” Abby interrupted him with a pout. “Why are you always so boring, Marcus? You were funnier when you were young.”

He stared at her in horror as she propped her chin on his arm, leaning her whole weight against him, her pupils a bit too much on the dilated side.

“ _Councilor Kane_.” his radio sputtered to life. _“We’ve got a problem. Hallucinogenic nuts were accidentally brought back with the food gathered yesterday and they were used in a batch of cakes. A few people ate them. It seems to be under control but some cases have been sent to Medical.”_

Marcus made a face and reached for his radio. “Understood. Keep me updated.” He studied Abby with a sigh. “Let me guess… You had cake for breakfast.”

“It was _amazing_.” she confirmed. “I wanted to bring you some but I ate it on the way.”

The kids were having a blast. He glared at them but it wasn’t enough to get order back into the ranks.

“Let’s get you to Medical.” he muttered after requesting Bellamy to take over supervising training.

Medical turned out to be a bad idea. It was crowded, Jackson was running all over the place and Abby immediately tried to _help_ – which, it turned out, was an even worse idea.

“Get her out of here.” Jackson requested, looking at the end of his tether. “ _Please_.”

She protested when Marcus dragged her away from Medical but she soon seemed to forget all about it, absolutely fascinated by the _gleaming sunshine_ on the walls. The fact that there was _no_ natural light inside the station’s wreckage was apparently not something she was concerned with.

She was like a child, amazed by the smallest thing they saw, and she looked so happy at that moment, it was difficult for Marcus to be annoyed by how slow they were walking. It was also impossible to have a coherent conversation with her but he patiently answered her comments about the beautiful light and the wonderful sky.

It had been a while  since he had seen her so cheerful and carefree.

He escorted her back to the war room with a half-cooked plan of coaxing her into sleeping it out on the couch while he got some work done. Of course, he should have known better. She whirled around the room like a hurricane, moving small things around, pointing at imaginary animals or rays of sunshine…

It took almost an hour for her to declare herself tired and drop on the couch. She wasn’t happy until he was sitting next to her though. He only understood why when she lied down, using his lap as a pillow. He supposed the fact he had remembered to close the door was a small mercy. All the more so when she reached out and ran her hand all over his cheek and chin.

“You have a beard.” she – _astutely_ – observed.

“I’m trying it out.” he shrugged. “Why? You don’t like it?”

“I do.” she decided. “It’s soft and rough.”

He snorted. “Soft and rough. I guess I’m keeping it then.”

She hummed in agreement and then closed her eyes. It wasn’t long before she was asleep.

She didn’t sleep enough as a rule, so he let her, not minding at all that she was using him as a cushion.

* * *

 

**3.**

He kept an eye on Abby as they trekked through the woods, making sure she didn’t fall on the tricky slope they were hiking on. He also kept an eye on their surroundings. The Mount Weather threat was gone and their truce with the Grounders held, they were on Trikru territory and he didn’t expect any troubles on Indra’s lands which was why he had elected to accompany the Chancellor himself to the Grounders’ Village instead of sending a squad. Trading agreements hadn’t taken long to seal and he was pleased with how the day had gone so far. They had enough hours of daylight to spare to do a detour on their way back to Arkadia.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked – for the tenth time.

“It’s a surprise.” he retorted – also for the tenth time – helping her climb over a rotten trunk lying on their path. “We’ll be there in five minutes.”

A couple of minutes more of walking and the trees started to grow sparse. The clearing was large, at the foot of a cliff. A waterfall streamed down in a clear pond, surrounded by reddish slippery rocks.

He heard her gasp and he smiled.

“Marcus, it’s _beautiful_.” she breathed out. “How did you find this place?”

“Indra showed me.” he shrugged, walking closer to the pond. He dropped his gun and his jacket next to a rock, crouching to untie his boots. She was still standing at the edge of the clearing. “Are you staying back there or are you coming?”

He was teasing but her pride was piqued and she stepped closer to the edge of the water, turning her head left and right to take everything in. He couldn’t blame her, he had been amazed too the first time he had been showed this place. This time, though, he was studying _her_ and he decided the view paled in comparison.

Her hair was loose on her shoulders, barely kept away from her face by two strands braided and tied together at the back of her head. It made her look… He might have had a _thing_ for her with loose hair. More than once he had found his fingers twitching with the urge to _touch_ , to comb it, to know what it would _feel_ like…

“You’re staring.” she observed, letting her hand fall in the water. There was a hint of nerves in her voice but she also sounded strangely pleased and, like the increasing odd instances between them lately, he decided it was best not to address it. For now at least.

The day was warm and they had been walking for about two hours, he hadn’t just taken her there for the view. He quickly finished to undoing the laces of his boots and kicked the shoes off with his socks.

“What are you doing?” she frowned as he slipped off his shirt. “Marcus…”

Any word of warning she could have uttered got lost as he dropped his pants and paddled into the water, not giving her time to get much of a view – she was his doctor, it wasn’t the first time she had seen him in his underwear anyway and the water was transparent enough that there wasn’t much room to hide even if she hadn’t. He stopped walking when the water reached his neck and turned around, lifting his eyebrows in an unspoken challenge.

“No way.” she shook her head. “I heard all about giant water snakes from Octavia.”

He chuckled, having heard the tale too. “No snakes, I promise. It’s perfectly safe.” She didn’t look entirely convinced and he tilted his head to the side to look at her, his voice taking on a teasing tone he knew she wouldn’t be able to accept easily. “I never pegged you for a coward, Abby…”

He was only joking, of course, but she folded her arms on her chest all the same, looking thunderous and amused all at once.

“You call it cowardice, I call it self-preservation.” she replied. “You know? That _thing_ you lack.” 

He preferred to ignore that gibe.

“The water is warm…” he insisted.

She rolled her eyes and sighed but bent down to untie her boots. “I swear to god if I get bitten by a snake…” she growled, shedding her jacket.

“I’ll protect you from the fictive snakes.” he vowed. “I can’t let my Chancellor get eaten alive.”

He hadn’t meant to say _my_. There had been absolutely no need for that _my_. She obviously picked up on it because she froze for a second and then smiled. “You better. It would be a dark spot on your record: Chancellor Griffin gets eaten by a wild snake in the pond Councilor Kane tricked her in.”

“ _Tricked_.” he joked.

“ _Tricked_.” she insisted. “I see through your manipulations, Marcus Kane.” She was mocking him and he shook his head, batting his arms to push himself further in the deep water. She looked a bit alarmed by his casualness, any trace of amusement disappeared from her voice. “Be careful. We can’t swim, Marcus, and I’m _not_ watching you drown.”

“I _can_ , actually.” he snorted, demonstrating by swimming half the length of the pond. It wasn’t as swift and elegant as when the Grounders did it but it was enough to keep him from drowning. The pond wasn’t that deep anyway and he firmly planted his feet on the seaweeds covering the bottom once more, pushing his now wet hair out of his eyes. “Are you coming?”

She had her hands planted on her hips and she was still hesitating. He mistook it for apprehension but he soon understood what she was uncertain about when she grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head.

He hadn’t thought of, or even expected, _that_.

The right thing to do would have been to avert his eyes when she kicked her pants off and made her way into the water – and he _did,_ but a heartbeat too late. Her underwear were plain and black and yet it was enough to make him wish he could…

He nipped that thought in the bud.

“So… I thought Indra was teaching you Trigedasleng…” she commented, turning her face to the sun, eyes closed. “She taught you to swim too.”

“If you call that teaching…” he snorted. “She pushed me into the deep end and it was either learn or drown.”

She chuckled, clearly regretting not having been around for that particular lesson. She briefly crouched to bring her head underwater and resurfaced almost immediately. She asked him something but he was too fascinated by the drops trickling down her throat and her collarbone to pay attention. Her wet hair floated around her like a halo and her soaked bra stuck to her like a second skin… He could guess at…

“Marcus?” she repeated and he startled, his eyes snapping back to hers with a guilty expression. She wasn’t _at all_ oblivious and he suspected she was having fun at his expense. “Did you hear me?” He let out a hum of denial and her lips twitched with amusement. “I asked you if you and Indra often escaped to secluded ponds to have a swim.”

He wasn’t sure if he invented or not the touch of possessiveness in her voice.

“Yes.” he said and, this time, he was sure he didn’t invent the spark of anger in her eyes. It made him smile. “Me, Indra and ten of her warriors.”

She relaxed and didn’t even give him the pleasure of getting flustered under his knowing gaze. She wandered deeper in the pond instead. He was watching closely and he was ready when her foot slipped and she found herself in the deeper end without warning. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back up where they could touch ground – well, _he_ could touch ground, she was too short, but she didn’t seem to mind clinging to his shoulders or having her body pressed close to his.

She tossed her head back and laughed.

A real laugh.

He wasn’t sure when was the last time he had seen her laugh that way, with free unrestrained happiness. _Years_ , he thought.

His hand brushed the scars at the small of her back and he was suddenly filled with shame. He moved to help her back where she could reach the bottom but she placed her hand on his cheek and he froze, his whole body tensing.

“Don’t.” she warned with a soft smile. “The past is in the past. Leave it there.”

He ducked his head, his thumb running over the rough patch of skin almost unconsciously. “I don’t know how you could forgive me.”

There was no doubt he was forgiven. She had showed him enough times he _was_ but…

“I didn’t _just_ forgive you, I forgot it even happened.” she declared. “It’s a beautiful day, Marcus…”

It was a beautiful day and they had been having a good time. They didn’t have a lot of free time, _she_   didn’t have a lot of free time. He didn’t want to spoil it.

She must have caught the sudden spark of mischief because she squealed a second before he tossed her. She resurfaced, laughing hard, and splashed him.

“That’s it, Councilor Kane.” she growled. “This is war.”

She was smaller than he was but committed to the task of pushing his head underwater. They played around like children for a while, laughing way too hard. He grabbed her around the waist a final time, intending to throw her away once more, but she twisted around in his arms and grabbed him around the neck, preventing him from tossing her.

“I surrender.” she chuckled, her teeth chattering a bit. The sun had disappeared behind clouds and it was starting to become chilly.

“That’s not something I thought I would ever hear you say.” he admitted, walking toward the bank, half carrying her.

“Only to you.” she shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. When her feet touched ground, she reluctantly unwrapped her arms from around his neck. She paddled out of the water and to their clothes. “You could teach me how to swim next time…” she suggested.

“Sure.” he granted easily.

He was happy to know there would be a next time.

* * *

 

**4.**

He loved this.

He hadn’t known he could love this so much.

Marcus had never been a lazy person or a particularly self-indulgent one. When he woke up, he left his bed – regardless of who else was sleeping in it. He had never felt the need to linger under a fort of fur blankets or to hold a woman close and never let go. He had never felt the need to bury his nose in her hair and drop random kisses on every uncovered patch of skin he could find because she was still bathing in the afterglow of the _good morning kisses_ he had planted downward, and she was breathtaking.

“Do you want…” she asked, her hand wandering under the blankets for his thigh.

He shook his head and didn’t bother giving a verbal answer. This wasn’t about reciprocity. He loved pleasuring her. He loved watching the bliss wash her face. He loved when she smiled at him afterwards, a little disheveled but with that spark in her eyes, like she was doing now.

Her hand moved up to cup his cheek, her thumb briefly stroking the hair covering his chin, before drawing him for a kiss. It was slow and tender and he hummed against her lips.

They would need to leave the bed and the cocoon of warm blankets soon, to go face the world that wanted them dead and be the leaders Arkadia deserved. _Soon_. For now, he was happy to be simply Marcus and to share a perfect moments with the woman he loved.

If the world was dying, he didn’t want to regret wasting precious time.

Priorities had been set straight.

“Hi…” she grinned, against his mouth, entirely too teasing.

He rolled on his back, pulling her with him so she could lie on his chest.

“Hi.” he answered back with a smile of his own. He brushed her hair back, draping it over one shoulder so he could brush his knuckles along the side of her neck, catching the love bite he had accidentally left there the previous night. “Sorry.”

She pressed a kiss on the center of his chest before shrugging. “I don’t mind.”

“You will when the kids make fun of us.” he snorted.

“I will just give them the mom glare.” she joked. “It works every time.”

He couldn’t argue with that. She had an easier time keeping the kids in line than him – well, until Bellamy or Clarke decided they were in charge once again, that was, at that point they both lost all authority or control on the remaining Hundreds.

“I love you.” he declared, with the same touch of awe he always felt when those words were not only _allowed_ but _reciprocated_.

“And I love you.” she chuckled. “And I love this. Waking up with you.”

It was newish and mostly unspoken… A lot of her clothes had migrated over from her quarters to his and he didn’t think she had slept in her room for at least two weeks. Clarke was enjoying the independence and he was enjoying Abby so, in his opinion, it was a win-win. He just wasn’t sure about asking her to make the move official. He didn’t want her to feel rushed or pressured.

He hesitated, watching as she clasped her hands on his chest and propped her chin on them to look at him. There was a twinkle in her eyes, as if she knew perfectly well what he was thinking about and was greatly amused because he was being an idiot. He knew her _you’re being an idiot but I still love you_ look, it was a relatively new one – to not be confused with the _you’re being an idiot and I could kill you_ glare.

“Are you happy?” he asked.

It might have sounded like a stupid question. They might still die in a couple of months – or before even, because radiation didn’t hit all at once – and that tended to put a damper on things.

But if he and Abby had anything, it was _hope_.

And they had each other.

And somehow, it was all that mattered.

A soft smile touched her lips. “More than I ever thought I could be.”

He briefly touched the chain she wore around her neck. He could feel the two rings digging against his chest but he didn’t mind. He wasn’t jealous and he didn’t resent the presence of the wedding bands. They were a reminder of a past she had cherished and everything she had cherished he wanted her to keep, particularly after the City of Light. Her feelings for Jake didn’t diminish her feelings for him. They were in the past, they belonged to another life.

But what the rings meant had been important to her once upon a time.

“Do you want…” His voice trailed off. “Would you…”

She perked a little, lifting her head to better see him, excitement flashing in her eyes and he wondered what she thought he would ask her.

“Yes?” she encouraged him, a touch of impatience in her voice.

“Move in here with me.” he finished lamely. It wasn’t the question he had wanted to ask and he could tell it wasn’t the one she had been hoping to hear.

Disappointment briefly flickered on her face but it was soon replaced by a wide happy grin.

“ _Finally_!” she laughed. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t get the hint until I had moved all my things over.”

He rolled his eyes and poked her in the side, prompting her to laugh harder.

She was still laughing when she kissed him which prompted him to chuckle too.

They were ridiculous, he realized that.

Ridiculously happy.

And he was the luckiest man on Earth.

* * *

 

**5**.

Grounders didn’t have weddings. They had joining ceremonies.

And they were lively affairs.

Marcus had lost count of the number of Arkadian marriage licenses he had been asked to grant and to the number of weddings he had been invited to attend. Grounders too seemed to have joining ceremonies by the dozens.

The end of the world made everyone eager to jump into matrimony before it was too late.

The Grounder village was full of people dancing, laughing and sharing meads. The bride was a friend of Octavia and he and Abby had tagged along with the girl on Indra’s request.

The campfires were burning bright in the dark night, embers fluttering in the air next to them. He was leaning against one of the wooden houses, watching as a little girl taught Abby a few steps of Grounder dances. Abby’s cheeks were flushed and she was laughing hard at her own clumsiness.

“Yu houmon ste ley _.”_ Indra commented, sneaking out of the shadows to lean next to him on the wall. “Em ste os bilaik ai em hapo.”

_Your wife is well. It is good to see her happy._

He frowned, glancing at Indra. Abby _did_ have a difficult time after ALIE. They all had. And nobody had been particularly ashamed to admit it.  It wasn’t what was making him frown however. Abby could be referred to in a lot of ways: a leader, a healer, a former Chancellor… Referring to her as his wife…

“Yu get in em ste nau ain houmon _.”_ he accused, unsure of what the Grounder was playing at. _You know she is not my wife._

“Din yu na gaf in laik? _”_ she retorted with a blank face. _Don’t you want her to be?_ “Gou ste presh, lukot. Trash em nau _.”_

_Time is precious, my friend. Don’t waste it._

With a last meaningful glance toward the former Chancellor, Indra slipped away again. Marcus watched her go, only noticing Abby had stopped dancing when she was standing right in front of him.

“Is everything alright?” she asked, sounding a bit worried. “You looked…”

“It’s fine.” he reassured her.

She searched his face and, when she was apparently satisfied he wasn’t lying, she leaned against him with a smile, checking over her shoulder that nobody was watching. They were apart enough from the main party that nobody would care what they got up to. There was more than one couple kissing in the fire’s flickering shadows.

“You’re beautiful.” he told her, if only because it was the truth.

He suspected she had let some of the Grounder children go crazy with her hair while he had been busy talking trading agreements earlier because her hair was tied back in intricate braids.

“Thank you.” she smiled. It was a soft smile until it turned wicked. “I’m suddenly exhausted. Why don’t we turn in?”

He chuckled but looked around and saw no sign that the party would stop soon so he nodded his agreement. They had a tent at the very edge of the Village, far from the main campfire and celebrations and he was actually relieved when the flap was zipped shut behind them. He hadn’t paid attention to how much noise there was until it was muffled.

Of course, he didn’t have much time to reflect on how much he preferred calm because Abby’s lips were on his, insistent, and he lost no time in responding to her kiss. It grew heated and he pinned her down to their pallet, hands wandering under clothes… _Teasing_ …

“I love you.” she breathed out in his ear when he let his mouth wander down her neck. It was said with so much abandon he looked up and straight at her, stopping what he was doing. She seemed confused for a second and then frowned with open frustration. “Marcus…”

“Yu laik ain tombom _.”_ he declared, the words not quite familiar. Although he had been to enough joining ceremonies to have them memorized by now. He saw the recognition in her eyes, her lips parted and then closed and she squeezed his shoulder as if to encourage him on. It took bravery for him to finish but when she was looking at him that way, there was nothing he wouldn’t have done or faced. _“_ Yu laik ain uf. Yu laik ain swison. Yu laik ain skai en ain graun. Yu laik ain keryon. Ai swega klin ai kom yu. _”_

There were some tears in her eyes when he finally fell silent and he kissed away the few that slipped down her cheeks. She tangled her fingers in his hair and tugged until he was looking at her once more.

“You are my heart.” she echoed, her voice faltering with some uncertainty. Her Trigedasleng wasn’t the best but it was better than it used to be. “You are my strength. You are my…” She frowned for a second. _Swison_ meant _sword_ and he knew she knew but she didn’t seem to find it fitting. She supplied it with another word, one they could both relate to. “ _Hope_. You are my sky and my ground. You are my soul. I pledge myself to you.”

He smiled at her as if she had just given him the moon and she grinned back, so hard he was almost afraid she would hurt herself.

“I swear if you don’t kiss me now, Marcus…” she threatened.

He complied, her happiness was contagious and he was almost delirious with his own as it was.

She loved him.

He loved her.

And it was only the beginning of their journey.

**_ The End _ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of the road, folks! I hope you liked it! I'm hoping to have a Marcus version sometimes in the future ;) Let me know what you thought of this one!

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Let me know!


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